


Mine and Yours. Yours and Mine.

by Tigers_And_Bombs



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alpha Sebastian, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Timelines, Canon-Typical Violence, Criminal Masterminds, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, Jealous Sebastian, Just hang in there guys, Kidnapping, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Minor Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Minor Original Character(s), Minor Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Murder Husbands, Omega Jim, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Behavior, darkish, mormor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-19 01:51:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9412406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tigers_And_Bombs/pseuds/Tigers_And_Bombs
Summary: Jim's been kidnapped in a little case of mistaken identity. Why would the most dangerous man in London and possibly the world be an Omega, after all?Exploring Jim & Seb with the Alpha/Omega Dynamic and how the boys make it work.





	1. The Room

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Duckies! 
> 
> I'm in love with Omegaverse, but there aren't many MorMor fics out there with the dynamic so I've decided to write my own. Sorry in advance. ;3 I'm not sure exactly where I am going to go with this but can imagine it being quite a long fic as I'd like to explore the universe and see what I trouble I can get the into together. So, we can all have fun while I make my mind up! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy reading, possum pants! 
> 
> Leave me a comment if you have any suggestions for after I get them out of here. 
> 
> As always I'm not beta read so apologies for any mistakes. 
> 
> xx

Little light seeped into the room. It’s boarded up windows, shoddily nailed in wooden beams and papered over crevices, only casting fragments of thin light across it into its damp, dingy corners. Hardly enough light to see anything. Perfect enough light to lose track of time in, and allow the seconds to tick away uncounted. No sound heard, bar a few muffled words from beyond the wooden door occasionally, that was. No cars. No birds. No wind. Nothing. 

A good room for a kidnapping. 

Yet such a poor person to choose to abduct. 

James Moriarty would have made this room far more suitable for its intended torment. Artificial light was a good start. The darkness allowed sleep. A glaring light in one’s face would have meant only exhaustion could win over, and when someone got tired, you simply made a few unnerving noises. Nails scraping was a personal favourite. Torture wasn’t just physical, after all. 

This dank little cell was clearly constructed by amateurs and it was almost amusing the attempts they had gone to, to make this seem in anyway terrifying. Did they know who they were dealing with? It was cute, but they could have, at least tried to be less boring. 

At least he could rule out Iceman. 

Even the ropes bounding his writs together, in a tight burning knot was of poor quality, yet better thought out than handcuffs and chains. Couldn’t have a valuable person going up in flames when the building caught alight simply because you’re chained them to the ground. Although, that could have been a fluke. The pure lack of planning and rush that seemed to come with this room lead to the thoughts that perhaps this was all luck. They had found some information out about Jim, perhaps who he was, and had to act quickly. This was the best they could do in short time. 

Pfft. Again. Amateurs. Who didn’t have basements and warehouse’s already set up for this thing? Even low level weed dealers had rooms in their houses for extracting information and payments.

Jim would enjoy destroying these people. 

The Irish criminal calculated he must have been in here at a little under 48 hours, as his mouth was being to dry and stomach knot with his lack of nutrition. He doubted very much they were trying to kill him. Else why would they have guards outside the door? 

So perhaps scare him? That was a normal response, right? To being tied to a wooden chair, arms bent at uncomfortable angles, bound by rope, with the occasional pins and needles pricking in his legs from his lack of movement. 

He did wish they’d hurry up and do what they kidnapped him for in the first place. It was being to get boring in this room; and if these idiots left him here any longer Sebastian would be on them in no time, they’d all be dead. Corpses don’t speak and Jim would never get to find out the reasons behind his kidnap. Where would be the fun in that? 

Though one positive could be that he wasn’t wearing a suit when he was chloroformed and bundled into the back of a van. (So Cliché.) It would be so much more infuriating if his Westwood had been soiled with this disgusting room and urine, so when they did eventually get around to torturing him, his blood. 

If they had done anything to redeem themselves with this room it was the scent of an Alpha that clung to his clothes and crept under the door, from the men stationed outside, and impregnated the room with the stench. Then again, Jim felt he may be giving them too much credit in his deprived and bewildered state, this was probably luck. 

And, perhaps, if it was luck, these would be kidnappers weren’t prepared for Moriarty to be an Omega. 

Or, they were. If they had done something mildly intelligent and knew he was an Omega and were attempting to lull him into a sense of fright with the overpowering Alporic musk they wouldn’t know how to react to an Omega as a captive. It wasn’t often Omegas got kidnapped, anymore. 

If the experience of the room was anything to go by the men stood at the door would be ill trained in how to conduct themselves with an Omega so therefor would be quite easy to exploit. 

Oh. 

Now that could be fun; Jim mused to himself with a small sadistic smirk washing over his lips. He so loved to manipulate others and it’d been a while since he’d had some fun alone. Sebby never let him play games with Alphas anymore. Always so possessive.

Jim smiled at this thought. His mate would have whoever this was ripped limb from limb for his imprisonment, and that was terribly romantic. 

So, it was either luck that they were Alphas and they hadn’t expect Moriarty to be and Omega. Or they did know and where attempting to intimated him, but probably had poor training and would, after this many days win his scent filling the room, resort to running off instincts. Either of these, former or latter, meant that Jim could attempt to learn a little from them. 

Maybe that’s why they hadn’t tortured him either? 

One way to find out. 

Pressing his dry lips together Jim let out a little whine, loud enough to be heard, but not too obvious of his attempt to draw attention to him. 

A shuffle of feet outside the door – They were listening. 

Jim cleared his throat. A soft Irish tone squeaking out of his underused throat as he played the part of damsel. “Uh… Hello? Is there someone there?” Jim decided that if they knew who he was they’d love to come and prove him wrong so decided to adapt his persona to something much softer than his psychopathic self. “I… I think you might have the wrong guy. I mean... I don’t know what you want. Is it money? Most people want money, right? But you haven’t asked for any and I’m not due in heat for a few weeks yet so I’m just… Sorry to bother you? I guess. I mean.. Could I have a drink? Please? If you’re there?” 

There was more shuffling from the other side of the door then some harsh whispers from two men as the debated something. Then a jingle of keys, as clumsily metal touched metal and a key was jabbed towards the lock, missing and scraping for a few seconds before there was a satisfying click and a creek, before a door squealed open, a blinding light casting inside and over Jim, as two large black fingers stood casting shadows inwards, the strong scents of the Alphas who owned the shadows also wafting in.


	2. Moriarty the Alpha

The overpowering scent of an Omega’s natural musk, once trapped into the room, being released washed over the two large Alphas, just as their scent washed over Jim. He squinted at the blinding light now burning his darkness adjusted retainers, as he attempted to keep focus on the men who stood before him. 

Here was the panicle. They could either know who he was and it was a seemingly clever way of using biological warfare against him, or they didn’t know Moriarty was an Omega and it was all a coincident; in either case, Jim needed to know what they hoped to achieve from this dismal little show. 

Had he not been doing the shopping, this wouldn’t have been a problem. Maybe he could mention that to Sebastian when the man eventually decided he’d turn up to save him. 

The two men edged closer to Jim, as his eyes made an adjustment to the light and he scanned over their frames. A slightly taller one, whom was bald and had various hate tattoos inked across his visible skin and a rather unattractive one upon his forehead, he was also slightly older. Brawn. The slightly shorter man had sleazy look to him, black hair greased back in a ponytail and a smile to make your skin crawl, with ratty yellow teeth, and the breath of a chain smoker, already apparent by the time they got closer to James. He was the supposed ‘brain’ of the couple, then.

Jim found himself bored with what they were going to say already and no-one had yet opened their mouth. He wondered; was it only him who managed to find criminals that didn’t look like criminals? Stereotypical, perhaps, but so was the brutish persona these men carried simply in there walk and the way the sidled up to the Omega. The world held such prejudice, if these men walked into a bank, someone would think something was wrong, when Jim walked into a bank, they made him comfortable… before he pulled a gun, that was. Then the service tended to faulted slightly. 

Jim had no chance to play the timid little Omega because by the time he was opening his mouth to say something there was a chubby fingers pressed against hips lips shushing him. “It’s okay, little one.” Jim glowered at this. “We were hoping Mr. Moriarty would come for his Omega sooner, so we didn’t plan for you staying the night. We hoped to let you free before the first night… just perhaps without your mate.” Jim was a little disheartened by this revelation. He blamed the lack of nutrition for his terrible deduction. 1. The bald one was the brains, which meant he had assumed incorrectly; much like he had with, 2. They didn’t know Moriarty was an Omega. In fact, they though Sebastian was Moriarty and Jim was just his trophy mate. Actually, he supposed he was partly right, they didn’t know he was and Omega. 

But it was just offensive they’d assume he wasn’t capable of being a criminal mastermind because of the ability to bare children. Then again, that was the thought most people had. 

Oh, it would be very fun to watch their illusions shatter as he reviled himself to be Moriarty. Just not yet. 

It had become a trifle interesting now, however, because he had found out their reason behind this kidnapping. Jim was going to be used for a lure to get ‘Moriarty’ AKA Sebastian to this location, because they wanted him dead. 

Jim looked innocently at the pair. “Are you going to hurt him?” 

They chuckled uncomfortably. 

“Please, I don’t know what he’s done, but he wouldn’t mean to. He’s a good man. He would never… I don’t know what he’s got himself messed up in.” Jim started to protest, because people loved to prove you wrong.   
And sure enough, they did. 

The greasy man snapped that Jim was a naive little bitch who knew nothing, only to have a hand hit him around the head with a scornful growl. The weasel of a man looked away from Jim, his cheeks heating up. 

“I must apologise for my son.” The bald man said much to Jim as he pushed himself forward slightly to stand as a wall between his son and the Omega tired to the chair. “He’s rather rash when it comes to the fairer sex.” 

Jim purposefully made sure not to roll his eyes at that. He would enjoy making the oaf scream. 

“Your Alpha is quite a bad boy, actually, sweetheart. I suppose he ideally wanted to keep you protected from it, so messes like this wouldn’t happen. Or maybe he’s have told you he was a psychopathic mastermind running a criminal underworld that stretches half way across the globe.” The bald man shrugged. “See, cutie…” A podgy finger came out to rest just under Jim’s chin and tilt his head upwards, exposing his neck. 

Jim would have perhaps felt more vulnerable if it were not for the fact he had some lovely images of what would happen to this guy for touching him once he told ‘Moriarty’ about this little display of dominance. He whined to keep up pretence. 

The man gave a toothy grin, his callous finger now trailing down the Omega’s neck, “I run something similar to Mr. Moriarty. Though, getting a foot hole into anything and making a name for myself is proving rather difficult. Everyone is so scared of the whisper they won’t budge for me. So, take out my only competition. How better to do that? Have him coming running for his little sweetheart and gut him when he steps through the door. I’m quite the romantic, though. The last thing he sees before he died will be you screaming in pain as your bond breaks and his life trickles away.” 

Jim took in the information, dark eyes scanning the other to evaluate the actual threat behind those words and though he had absolutely no reason to doubt Sebastian would easily terminate the men who stood before him, he could however ensure some slightly better treatment while he was waiting to be located. 

These men we’re vicious. Or, at least, not towards him. Perhaps they had planned to break the bond like that but the scent they’d locked in the room for days must have been playing havoc with their instincts to protect. Even a bonded Omega. 

“He wouldn’t care.” Jim lied looking down at the floor in front of him submissively. “Mr. Moriarty doesn’t… we don’t have that kind of bond. He only really has time for me when I’m in heat and he’s not gentle.” Jim bit his lip like he was telling his captors a giant secret he had never shared with anyone. The Two Alphas shifted, pitying looks cast over the Omega and the hand once trailing down his neck now offering comfort of Jim’s shoulder.

“He just mated with me because he didn’t want anyone else to have me. Said, I didn’t deserve to be happy.” A broken sob fell from Jim’s cracked lips as he carefully forced himself into crying. 

Much to his plan there was a shuffle of feet and a cold blade being pressed to his wrists to cut the ropes binding him to the chair. “He is a good man, though. I mean… to other people.” His loyalty to Moriarty the Alpha clearly slipping, just as his feet were freed and some slim arms looped around him to hug him. 

Jim was glad it was the weasel son offering him support, because though his scent was repugnant it would make the man’s death so much more unpleasant when the time came. 

“Don’t worry.” The black hair man soothed as he lightly rubbed Jim’s back, occasionally glancing to his father in concern. 

“Sorry.” Jim sniffed into the Alpha’s shoulder. The vulnerability he was portraying disgusting to him. Needs must. “Sorry about your clothes too. I’m… Dirty.” 

Finally the other Alpha in the room spoke up. The man’s features had softened by this point and was now pleading to his need to nurture Jim. “I’ll go and get you come food and water. David.” He addressed his son who finally relinquished his hold of Jim and stepped back. “You watch him for a while. Nicely.” 

Smiling weakly while rubbing his sore wrists Jim nodded with thanks before smiling brightly to the Alpha he’d been left in the room with. 

The soon to be dead Alpha in the room with him. A wicked smirk began to form on the Irish man’s lips as the door locked once more leaving the two alone. 

Jim stood on shaky legs, singing a “Hiii~ , David.”


	3. Three Bangs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just thought I ought to end it here with Sebby on the way. 
> 
> :3 
> 
> xx

Sebastian couldn’t remember doing anything wrong that morning that would cause Jim to have a temper tantrum and not return home. 

Other than demand the other went shopping and do something around their house for once. 

That wasn’t usually an excuse for Jim to leave. More an excuse for him to poison Sebastian and until the other griping to the rim of the toilet and chucking up his guts, cursing the maniac between bouts of nausea and then conceding to do the shopping himself from now on. 

Perhaps this year had changed, though and Jim was instead just sulking instead of plotting ways to punish Sebastian for making him do something ordinary. 

No. He hadn’t done anything that wrong. 

Jim didn’t just leave the flat, either. Had the locks changed, yes. Never just leave unless they were having a really bad fight and wanted the last word. 

Six missed calls to his employer and twenty three non-answered messages later and Seb knew something was wrong. 

11 o’clock at night and the hunt for his Omega took place. Jim would have been missing around twelve hours by this point and if someone had so much as touched a hair on what was his Sebastian would burn London to the ground. 

The empire kept running. Though more sloppily than when Jim was at the helm as the sniper kept it afloat with the contingency measures and spent the rest of the time dedicated to finding Jim. 

24 hours past and Sebastian was murderous. Tearing apart anything and anyone that stood in his way. 

He’s broken over thirty six laws by the time he had picked up the trail of his Omega and woe betide anyone that tried to stop him now. 

“Do… you think maybe he’s alive still, Moran?” Mathews, a trusted sniper and college of his asked skittishly as he looked over the maps Sebastian had sectioned off. 

The smirk Sebastian gave him made Mathews crumble into begging for mercy before Seb had even put his cigarette out on his skin. At least he was alive. Mathews felt sorry for anyone who’d held their boss captive. Not only did they have Jim on their hands, Sebastian was closing in. 

32 hours and a team of five men were being led by Sebastian to an abandoned industrial estate miles out of London. 

36 hours and a few hours of observation under their belt they had confirmed the location, found the building, set up the semtex in structurally dependable place, taken out the poorly organised and under experienced excuses for guards milling around the large industrial area.

Three explosions. 

The calling card the mated couple shared to alert the other of their presents. 

Three ground shaking explosions one after the other and he was on his way into the building Jim was being held in.

To get what was his.


End file.
